Harry Potter and the Wrath of the Horcruxes
by kenisu3000
Summary: Harry, unable to shake off his friends including Neville, goes on his destined journey to seek and destroy the Horcruxes of Voldemort's soul.
1. The Mystery of Neville

Note from the author:

This story began with just this first chapter intended to be the entire story due to an ingenious idea I got one night. I posted it on a Harry Potter forum, and when I got the slightest bit of positive feedback, I cracked like an eggshell and wrote more, giving it the new altogether title of _The Wrath of the Horcruxes _(which I know is corny, and went with entirely as a joke).

This story is developing far better than I expected, and I plan on going the whole way now. Enjoy!

Harry Potter and the Wrath of the Horcruxes

**Chapter 1: The Mystery of Neville**

Harry Potter, determined to visit Godric's Hollow - the site of his parents' murder - and not one to waste any time, departed immediately from the wedding between Bill Weasley and Fleur Delacour, from the very moment the "I do"s had been spoken. He had been hoping to shake off Bill's younger brother Ron and Hermione Granger, who were just as determined to accompany him. But it was no use. Despite his constant warnings of the impending danger, and the doom Harry seemed to be tied to, Ron and Hermione, now a couple, felt it their duty to be with Harry through thick and thin.

The trio first had to find a secluded enough area so that they could Apparate. In the end, they were forced to walk all the way to Stoatshead Hill, and then up the steep incline. Once at the top, they were preparing themselves to perform the magical spell of teleportation, when Hermione stopped short.

"Wait-"

"Oh what, Hermione?" snapped Ron. "Did you forget your copy of _Hogwarts, a History_?"

"No!" Hermione replied with a scowl. "I just had this feeling we ought to bring Neville along."

"_Neville!_" Ron and Harry shouted in unison, both so taken aback that their faces were contorted in a most hilarious manner. "Whatever for?" Ron elaborated. "He can't walk three feet without tripping over himself."

"Yeah, Hermione!" Harry now cut in. "It's bad enough you two are endangering yourselves by coming along; why should Neville be added to the casualties? Or should we bring the whole of Gryffindor House, just to make sure you haven't forgotten anyone more?"

Hermione was not amused. "It's just... I had this feeling we ought to bring him..."

"Oh wow, you could really give Trelawney a run for her money," said Ron, rolling his eyes.

Grudgingly, Harry complied, and the three were soon to be seen at the Longbottom home, and Neville's grandmother was more than happy to let them take him along (though Harry concocted a crafty lie that the four of them were going to go and try to further convince the Hogwarts teachers to indeed let the school remain open for the following year). So together they set back out, and as they prepared to Apparate again, Harry stopped his companions.

"Oh, what _now_!" Ron said, disgusted.

"I just had an idea," Harry said matter-of-factly, though shooting Ron a dirty look. "I'm not the only one allowed to have ideas, y'know... but where did your mother get that clock that keeps track of every member of your family?"

"Diagon Alley, ages ago, why?"

But Harry had already disappeared without answering. He returned with a small, portable clock with four unlabeled hands on the face, and words such as "Prison" and "Traveling" where the numbers would be on a Muggle clock. His intentions now clear without a spoken explanation, Harry now performed a complicated spell on each of his friends including himself, and their four faces appeared on the hands.

At last, they set their sights for Godric's Hollow, though Neville had to hang on to Ron's arm. As soon as they found themselves in the shadow of the town cemetery, Harry turned to the others and with a deep breath, told them this was something he had to do alone. Hermione, Ron, and Neville understood, and Harry slowly began to walk among the headstones, looking for any that said "JAMES AND LILY POTTER, died 1981", and absentmindedly taking the clock with him.

At last, he found it, below a large marble angel and in the shadow of a great willow-tree. He knelt down and began to place the clock aside, but even as he did so, he noticed that the hand with Neville's face was pointing to "Mortal Peril".

Without another thought, Harry re-tightened his grip on the clock and hightailed it back to his friends... only to find that all of them seemed to be perfectly okay, including Neville. For a moment, Harry wondered if perhaps this was not the real Neville, that it was an imposter masquerading as him by way of Polyjuice Potion... but that didn't seem to be it.

"What's up, Harry?" Neville asked, and the others appeared bewildered as well. "You don't look too good." Harry was sure from Neville's words that he must have been as pale-faced as he was fearful for his friend's safety.

"I'm... I'm all right," Harry panted. "Let's... save my visit to my mum and dad's grave for another day. I wouldn't mind seeing the place where my parents lived."

"But Harry," Hermione said, raising an eyebrow, "wasn't their house destroyed when Voldemort... broke in?" Ron and Neville winced at the name.

"Yes, but that doesn't mean there won't be remains under the house of whoever re-built over it."

So Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville ventured through the town, asking around about where exactly it was that Lily and James Potter used to live... which, naturally, led to some awkward looks from the Muggles they asked, seeing as how it was no secret to them that the young couple had mysteriously vanished or died, however weird Harry's parents had seemed to them. Eventually, they got enough information to go on, and on the way to the old site, Ron and Hermione were mentioning in passing how Luna Lovegood had been rumored to be developing a sudden interest in Seamus Finnigan. Harry had a fleeting sense of nostalgia as he thought back to his first year at Hogwarts, and how much more grown-up he and the three teens accompanying him had become since then.

Neville piped up and said, "By the way, not that I'm not grateful, but why did you decide to bring me along?"

"Ask Hermione," Ron said smugly. "She was the one who was so keen to pick you up. I think you might be giving me a run for my money."

Hermione blushed. "It's nothing," she said. "Really, I just thought... you might like to join us." Neville gave a feeble smile.

Reminded of Neville's presence, Harry glanced down again at the clock he was holding. The Neville hand was still pointing to "Mortal Peril".

Finally, the four reached the site, and there was indeed a newer house built over it. They walked up to the doorstep and before he could stop himself, Harry knocked, realizing uncomfortably that he had no idea what he was going to say ("Umm... hi, this is the site of my parents' old house, and they're kinda dead, and I wanted to go under your house and see if some of their stuff is still here..."). However, nobody answered (to Harry's relief) and they were just getting ready to go back to the cemetery and kill time for the Muggles to get back home, when a glint of something coming from the basement window-well caught Harry's eye. He peered in at the window, the others following uncertainly. Harry could make out some old newspapers and something possibly metal just peeking out from underneath them. Unable to contain himself, he moved forward to lift the window up.

"Harry, just what are you doing!" Hermione snapped under her breath, her eyebrows furrowed. "I believe the Muggle term for this is _breaking and entering_!"

"You've been so reckless ever since our fifth year," Ron added. It was strange for Harry to hear him defending Hermione's always-follow-the-rules regime. "What has gotten into you?"

"Shut up and keep a look-out!" Harry growled. The others rolled their eyes and turned to make sure no Muggles, or anyone for that matter, were watching. Neville looked nothing short of terrified.

Finally, Harry succeeded in getting the window up, and he climbed into the basement, which was very dimly lit, and only by the thin sunlight coming in from the open window. Harry could not make out the far wall as anything further than a ten-foot radius around him was lost to the utter dark: as far as he knew, this basement could be the size of a cathedral. Considering the dust swirling around in every direction, this was clearly not a frequently-visited section of the house. Approaching the newspapers, he immediately took in a breath as he saw that the people in the photographs were moving: _these were not Muggles living here, they were wizards_. Saving this mystery for later, Harry slowly pulled the newspapers off from the object he had seen shining from the window. And there it was: a tiny, unlit, old-fashioned lamp. Why had it been glinting, which it certainly wasn't now, if it was so dirty and covered in dust? But that was when Harry noticed a miniscule inscription on the handle. He bent down, picked the lamp up in the hand that was not carrying the clock, and screwed his eyes up to read the inscription:

_Godric Gryffindor_.

Harry dropped the lamp and clock abruptly and backed away, clutching at his pounding heart: the sword had not been the last known relic of Godric Gryffindor after all! Which must mean... that this lamp was a...

"Harry?" Neville's voice came from behind him. Harry wheeled around and saw his round-faced schoolmate climbing in through the window after him. "I heard a loud noise... is anything wrong?" He glanced at the lamp and the clock on the basement floor, and Harry instinctively followed suit, peering back down at the objects he had dropped... and the Neville hand on the clock was still resolutely pointing to "Mortal Peril". Harry quickly turned back to Neville, who looked strangely unsurprised to have seen his own self pointing to this proclamation of doom. But Neville did narrow his eyes.

"So... you know then?" he muttered.

Harry suppressed a small cough from the dust. "Know... what?" he asked with hesitancy.

Neville gave a deep sigh and turned away from Harry, speaking to the floor. "In our fourth year, I thought I would have had a chance with Ginny when she said yes to the Yule Ball. I wanted to ask her out again after that, but something seemed to take the courage out of me. You can go on one date and still be considered acquaintances, but anything after that and she'll know you like her. Then, before I knew it, I had lost my chance and you and her had come together."

Harry's heart sank. The last thing he wanted in the world was to be the one to take a chance away from his dear friend Neville, but at the same time, he cared very deeply for Ginny and wanted more than anything to be with her... but in any case, they weren't really even together any more: Harry had parted ways with her at Dumbledore's funeral, though he hoped to get back together with her once Voldemort was vanquished.

"Neville..." Harry began, but Neville went on:

"So then I started to develop feelings toward Luna, and now Seamus tells me that he and Luna have a thing going."

"But what does this have to do with you being in Mortal Peril?" Harry asked.

"Haven't you guessed yet?" Neville choked, raising his head to look at Harry again, and Harry could see that his eyes were beginning to shine with tears. "All I've been able to think about for the past few days is suicide."


	2. Nameless Horror

Harry Potter and the Wrath of the Horcruxes

**Chapter 2: Nameless Horror**

Harry stood rooted to the spot, mortified. How could this be possible - Neville, the same Neville he had known for six years, _was this close to killing himself!_ He had no idea what to say to his sobbing friend, but he felt he had to do something, anything, or Neville would be lost.  
"Neville…" he began, "I really don't know what to say. Really I want to say I'm sorry it didn't work out between you and Ginny, but then again the time I spent with her last year were the happiest I've ever known."  
_"Well, bully for you!"_ Neville shouted, now in a furious rage that Harry had never imagined his clumsy friend capable of. Harry again wondered if perhaps this was not Neville, but a Polyjuice impersonator - but the tears scattering in the thin, dusty air said otherwise: this kind of insecurity was just too characteristic of his fellow Gryffindor, though it was certainly something to see his emotions not kept under hesitation. _"It all points to my doom of being perpetually alone, now doesn't it!"_ And now Neville began talking wildly to the floor, darting his eyes and head here and there around his general proximity. _"It shouldn't have to be like this. It would have been far, far better for everyone if I had never even been born -"_  
"Don't say such things, Neville!" Harry cut him off, and suddenly now he himself was crying desperately. "You have to believe that there is one out there for you, just give it some time and you'll find her, I promise!"  
_"NOW YOU SHUT UP!"_ exclaimed Neville, now totally resembling a madman, and yet still believably himself. _"IT ENDS **HERE**!"_  
And Neville drew out his wand and brought it up to point at his own neck. For a fleeting moment, Harry thought his friend was going to say _"Sonorus!"_ but instead, came: _"AVADA KEDA-"_  
Harry had only a moment to react: drawing his own wand, he practically threw it at Neville as he shouted _"EXPELLIARMUS!"_  
Neville's wand parted company with his hand, and Neville himself was thrown off his feet and into the wall under the dim, grimy window. Harry heard a sickening, indescribable noise as the back of Neville's head slammed against the cement. As he slumped down onto the floor and against the wall, fully defeated, a trickle of blood showed itself just under Neville's fringe of hair. Harry walked slowly and apologetically toward his comrade.  
"Harry…" Neville choked, in a very weak, barely audible voice. "Thank you… you brought me back to my senses… but I don't think it changed anything… I can feel myself dying… I'm sorry you had to see me like that, Harry." And with a final breath, the noble Neville Longbottom closed his eyes ever so peacefully. Harry felt a lump in his throat as the reality hit him: he had just ensured what he had been trying to prevent. Harry's tears were obscuring his sight to an unbelievable extent… or perhaps he was swooning from the shock. All the same, he could not stop himself from howling into the dead darkness until his throat was sore. Faintly, as if from a distant memory of a former life, he had the feeling that he had friends outside the window - was he indoors? - and it seemed strange to him that whoever they were, they were too heartless to investigate the noise, and therefore unworthy of his friendship.

Slowly, Harry came back into reality and found himself on the cold floor of a dark basement, lying beside Neville's body. His eyes met the blood on his friend's face. The blood had clotted and the bleeding appeared to have stopped. Harry looked to the source of the wound, and pushing back the fringe saw on Neville's forehead a lightning-shaped scar.  
Without thinking of why he was doing it, he backed away from the body and clutched at his chest. It was like looking into a mirror: this was what would become of Harry if Voldemort was successful. Completely by instinct, Harry bellowed into the darkness: _"Damn you, Voldemort!"_

There was a deafening crack. Harry wheeled around to look at Gryffindor's lamp, and noticed that it had been split down the middle, completely broken. How could such a loud noise come from such a tiny object, Horcrux though it may be?  
And then Harry understood. This was why everyone was so terrified of hearing or saying the name of Voldemort - it must have been the fear of the possibility of a Horcrux being present, for at that moment, even as Harry gazed in utter horror, a twisted form rose out of the crack on the lamp and shaped itself, though the new shape was no less terrible. Indeed, the fragment of Lord Voldemort's soul from within the dark object had responded to its name as if to a call, and the horrible being at length stood before the young wizard, scarlet snake-eyes glowing, and yet it was not the fully-formed Voldemort Harry had encountered numerous times, nor the young and handsome Tom Riddle; but rather, a median between the two: this particular Horcrux had to have been created not long after Riddle had graduated from Hogwarts.  
"Are you the feeble joke that discovered my Horcrux?" the figure hissed venomously.  
Quickly as he could, Harry raised his wand, but found to his horror that the shock of Neville's demise had weakened him: he could not perform a blocking spell in time.  
Voldemort raised his wand with relative ease, pointing at Harry, and smirked, "Avada Kedavra," lazily, almost as if Harry was not worth a cry. The jet of green light struck Harry, utterly helpless, full-on in the chest. He was dead before he knew what was happening.


	3. The Victims

Harry Potter and the Wrath of the Horcruxes

**Chapter 3: The Victims**

Harry's body lay there in a slump, face-down. Voldemort slowly advanced, gloating upon his victim. Being a Horcrux Voldemort, he did not know who Harry Potter was or his significance, but something in the recesses of his mind told Voldemort that he had just accomplished an incredible feat by destroying this seemingly weak boy. He kicked the body over with his foot, and looked into the hollow eyes locked in an eternal death stare.  
Clearing some dust away from before his face, Voldemort presently noticed Neville's body. He walked over to investigate, wondering if perhaps there had been two boys in that basement with him, and his _Avada Kedavra_ spell had been powerful enough to kill them both with one hit. His foot brushed against the clock Harry had bought in Diagon Alley, and looking down, he saw the clock face. Suddenly, with a bewildered expression, he turned back to face Neville's body, and then back again to the clock.  
"That can't be right…" Voldemort said to himself, under his breath.

When Harry came to, he found himself in a world he did not know, and yet it was so very distantly familiar. He seemed to be on a dirt road in the center of a rural area, but there was no one in sight. It was dusk, and a thin mist lay upon the world. A low, brown mountain could be seen a mile or two off through the skeletal fog. There were some scanty trees on either side of the road. The way Harry felt, there was nothing for it but to move along the path in front of him and see where it took him. Almost without his knowing it, his feet began to move forward.  
He had not gone far when he encountered a curious tree on his right, the largest and most exotic-looking tree he had seen on his mysterious journey. At once, as he gazed at this tree and its abundant fruit, which appeared to be a sort of golden pear, it occurred to him that he had been traveling for hours… or was it days? But before he could decide the duration he had been in this strange world, he noticed a boy not much older than him, asleep under the boughs of deep, rich green leaves, with his back against the tree-trunk.

It was Cedric Diggory.

Harry nearly jumped out of his skin, and immediately Cedric's sleeping form awoke and spoke directly to him, not at all surprised to see Harry standing there.  
"Hello, Harry," it said. "It's been a good long while, hasn't it? I've been waiting. And I'm not the only one. Come. I will show you the others."  
Harry was still in shock, but his body responded without a command from the brain, and soon he was following closely behind the figure of Cedric, which was leading him further down the path. Before long the path curved, and Harry saw that it was leading towards the brown mountain on the left. When they reached its feet, they began to climb without hesitation. It was not until they had scaled the first half of the slope that Harry realized he was not the slightest bit exhausted for the climb, nor, come to think of it, from the walking before that. He did not have time to ponder the meaning of this, for the ground became fairly level and a tiny opening could be seen in the mountainside. Cedric squeezed in through this, and Harry after him. When Harry dusted himself off and looked around, he saw that they were in an enormous cave, far bigger than the mountain could have seemed to hold from the outside. Harry had encountered this sort of thing before, when he stayed in the Weasley's tents at the Quidditch World Cup (though it now felt like something out of a distant dream rather than a true memory), and he wondered if there might be magic involved in this.  
"No, this is not magic," Cedric said to him. Harry turned quickly to his companion. Did Cedric just read Harry's mind… or had Harry simply spoken his thoughts aloud? Cedric only smiled, and turned his gaze upon the ceiling of the vast cavern, except that the ceiling was so high it was utterly lost to the darkness. Harry had another strange twinge as he realized that the whole time, it had not been too cold nor too warm, but what he considered to be the perfect temperature, inside this cave and outside.  
"This is not magic," Cedric repeated. "This is the afterlife, Harry. You're dead."

Back in the world of the living, Severus Snape was having a heated discussion with Draco Malfoy. They were in what appeared to be a dungeon passageway. Cold flagstones paved the walls and the floor, and the torches in brackets on the walls burned low, giving a very scanty light. Draco was following behind Snape, who seemed to be in a frantic hurry. They were speaking as they went along.  
"How many times do I have to tell you, Draco?" said Snape in a desperate voice less oily and smooth than his usual tone. It did not become him. "If we don't find it soon, the Dark Lord will eat us alive! You _do_ enjoy living, do you not!"  
"But we left without a word!" Draco protested. "For all my mother knows, I could _already_ be dead! Couldn't we just go back and let her know --"  
"You always were a momma's boy," scowled Snape. "No, we cannot. It would ruin everything. Just you wait until we finish this, and you can sit on your mommy's lap all you want."  
Draco looked like he could kill Snape right then and right there. All the same, he swallowed and contorted his face to hide his malcontent, and the two passed like shadows into the darkness beyond the torchlight.

Harry and Cedric descended a small slope from the cave entrance and began to walk across the floor. Everything about them was shrouded in darkness, yet they could see one another plain as day. After some time a bright figure came into view on the very edge of Harry's sight. It grew slowly and constantly, until there was no doubt that Professor Dumbledore was approaching the pair. But as he got closer, Harry realized that this was a much younger Dumbledore, an adult only just barely.  
"Harry, Harry, so good to see you!" said the young Dumbledore in his soothing voice which was hardly any different from his voice as an old man. "There is much to be done. And we must be swift, if we are to be successful."  
But Harry did not take any of this in. He had been choking up, with tears springing to his eyes, and without hesitating any longer embraced his old mentor.  
"Professor, there's so many things I want to tell you! That locket we brought back, it wasn't-"  
"As I'm sure you have gathered, we have no time for that," responded Dumbleore, looking down at his former student with a soft smile. Harry understood and they came apart. "There are others waiting patiently. Let's not disappoint them."  
At these words Harry realized what "others" meant. A sudden excitement of joy came into his heart. Sure enough, it was not long before the trio came upon his godfather Sirius Black, and James and Lily Potter, standing before a sort of dais with a small square marble stone and a blue beam of light emanating straight up out of it, encompassing the whole of this stone.  
Tears once more came to Harry's eyes, but at a look from his parents and godfather, he understood that they meant to say also that there was no time for a joyful reunion. At last, Harry's father spoke:  
"It's not only us. There are more."   
And with that, a crowd seemed to form around them. Harry recognized Amelia Bones and a woman who looked like she could be Hannah Abbot's mother. There were many others besides these, so many in fact that Harry was certain that here stood all of Voldemort's victims (aside from the Death Eaters such as Igor Karkaroff), from both that time period, and the former period of Voldemort's reign of terror.  
"It is time," said Cedric, and reaching inside his robes he pulled out one of the pears Harry had seen on the tree outside, but now Harry noticed that the fruit was not only gold, but if seen from a different angle, appeared silver, or a mixture of both hues. "We need you to stand on that stone, and eat this fruit," Cedric continued. "If all is done right, we will all be back in the Light World. We want to help you eradicate Voldemort, but we could not return by ourselves. You see, Harry, you really are the Chosen One. You are the only one who could help us return."  
Determination swelled up within Harry, and at once he took the fruit and stepped into the beam of light. The throng crowded around the dais. Harry raised the fruit and opened his mouth, but a thought suddenly struck him.  
"Wait a second -- where's Neville?"


	4. The Owner of the House

Harry Potter and the Wrath of the Horcruxes

**Chapter 4: The Owner of the House**

"Neville never entered our world," replied Cedric. "He must still be alive."  
"But _how!_" Harry wondered aloud. He still held the mysterious fruit, but it was nearly forgotten in his wonder. "I mean, his skull was cracked and everything!"  
"Harry," said Dumbledore in a calming voice, "we need not repeat ourselves on how short we are on time. We know about the Horcrux you discovered, and that its respective Voldemort was released from it. If this Voldemort joins forces with the original being, there will be no need for the Death Eaters and their master to work in secret any longer. They will be powerful enough to come out into the open and declare their existence, and indeed far too powerful to eradicate, which we could do comparitively easily if they remain apart. If we do not act quickly, the two Voldemorts could find each other and wipe out the Muggle and half-blood world as we know it. _Eat the fruit._"  
"Right!" And with that, Harry bit into the most indescribably succulent (and yet somehow familiar) food he had ever tasted. As the juice found its way down Harry's throat, and he closed his eyes in sheer savor, he could feel himself coming back to a world he knew he never really wanted to return to.

Upon opening his eyes, he saw that he was back in the unknown wizard's basement. It was just as dusty as ever, but to Harry's surprise, he was fully alone. The people he had just been with were nowhere in sight - at first he wondered if their plan hadn't worked for them, but only for him, and then he realized that naturally, they would return to their individual bodies scattered around the world - but even Voldemort and Neville were missing. Suddenly, the dim window to the side came open and in came Hermione and Ron, looking thoroughly frantic.  
"Goodness, where have you two _been_ during all of this?" Harry said with eyebrows furrowed and a blameful expression in his tone. "You wouldn't believe what's been going on!"  
"And neither would you, Harry!" Hermione gasped. "We have to get out of here, _quick_!"  
"Why, is Voldemort on the loose?" Harry asked.  
"Why would he be?" Ron asked as he coughed away some dust. "I mean..."  
"I'm only going to ask you one more time!" Harry said with his voice slightly raised. "What have you two been _doing_ during all this?" And then comprehension dawned on him. "Oh, never mind, I don't want to know..."  
"Harry, a paralysis spell was put on us! We only barely recovered!" cried Hermione. "But we wanted to warn you, really! Harry... this isn't a Muggle home!"  
"I already know that!" Harry said defiantly.  
"Perhaps, mate," said Ron, "but do you know _who_ it belongs to!"  
"Well met indeed, Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley," came a voice behind them that Harry knew all too well and hated beyond anything... that horrible, girlish, cutesy voice... sure enough, when the three wheeled around, they faced in the dim light - _Dolores Umbridge_. "I never would have guessed you two of all my former students to be so quick in recovering from my paralysis spell."


	5. Redemption Day

Harry Potter and the Wrath of the Horcruxes

**Chapter 5: Redemption Day**

"Breaking and entering!" said Umbridge as though she was impressed. "I'll finally have you right where I want you, all three of you - Azkaban prison!"

But even as she raised her wand to perform another paralysis spell, a flash of green light came and struck her in the back, and she fell dead. Voldemort stepped out of the dark corner he had been waiting in, carrying an unconscious Neville Longbottom by the collar. Harry froze. As for Ron and Hermione, they were so petrified they nearly swooned. They had never seen Voldemort, but they had no doubt whatsoever that this was the Dark Wizard himself. A shudder ran through the basement. The trio could feel it in their bones.

"You should be dead," came the cold voice. "You _were_ dead. I would certainly like to know what brought you back to life. Such information would invaluable to me - after all, if you knew about my Horcruxes, then you should be well aware that living forever is my greatest cause. Come, tell me this secret."

Harry knew that this was information he must not divulge, at any costs. But wait - Voldemort was a Legimens, the greatest Legimens ever known! How could Harry keep the knowledge of the Fruit from him? Perhaps it was no matter, because Harry was the Chosen One, meaning he was the only one who could have eaten the Fruit and regained life. And yet... his destiny seemed to eternally be tied with Voldemort's, so perhaps the Dark Lord would also be capable of eating the Fruit? All seemed hopeless as Harry realized this, because it all led back to the fact that Voldemort could read minds.

But mysteriously, Voldemort did not seem enlightened. "Tell me, _now_," he said, "or your dear friend suffers a fate far worse than death." He raised his wand to Neville's throat.

Apparently this Voldemort came from a Horcrux early enough that it was before he could perform Legilimency. All the same, however, Harry still had a dilemma on his hands.

"Are you sure you want to hesitate?" Voldemort whispered. "Believe me, I can make him suffer. I can cause him so much pain he would beg for death - but he would be unable to speak. I know spells that would eat out his mind and leave him still just barely alive. Or how about we perform a little _Diffindo_ and tear off his limbs?"

The fury in Harry was steadily rising. How could he prevent this? Completely at a loss for any other solution, he drew out his wand, but before Voldemort could perform a blocking spell, suddenly wizards and witches began to appear out of thin air. Surrounding the surprised onlookers were the victims that Harry had brought back to life. Ron and Hermione spotted Dumbledore, Sirius, and Cedric, and nearly jumped out of their skin. The newcomers swished their wands, and all pointing directly at Voldemort, cried "_Expelliarmus_!"

Voldemort's wand and Neville left his grip to fly through the air and skid across the basement floor. There was silence. Voldemort looked shocked, then his expression slowly changed to mildly amused.

"Heh," he snorted, "no matter. I don't need a wand to Apparate." He made a motion as if to prepare for Apparition, and the trio and the former victims thought all was lost, but then, as Voldemort's arms swung around, a light began eating away at his body. It started in his midsection, then spread to his arms and legs, and finally his head. Obviously Voldemort was in some sort of unknown pain, and his face showed it. At last the figure of the Dark Lord was completely overwhelmed, and he vanished in a puff of black smoke.

"That's not Apparition..." Harry said, confused.

When the smoke cleared, Neville could be seen behind Voldemort, looking as bruised and battered and half-dead as ever, but awake and standing, with a satisfied smile on his face. His arms were outstretched and Gryffindor's lamp lay completely shattered under them.


	6. A Cause for Celebration

Harry Potter and the Wrath of the Horcruxes

**Chapter 6: A Cause for Celebration**

As Harry smiled at his friend, standing there in a barely-triumphant fashion with a new scar identical to his own, he wondered vaguely how Neville knew about the Horcruxes, and that the destruction of one would mean the destruction of its concealed spirit Voldemort. But his wonder was swallowed up in his joy of this against-all-odds conquest, and for now he simply wanted to take in the moment.

The former victims stood all around the young heroes, and they too were smiling broadly. When Harry looked around at them, he spotted Dumbledore, and meant to ask him if they could finally rejoice in the return of the dead. Dumbledore seemed to understand without a spoken word, for he simply grinned at Harry's inquisitive expression, and nodded. Despite, Hermione actually was the first to burst into tears of joy, but couldn't seem to decide who to hug first. After pivoting in several different directions, she finally grabbed Dumbledore by the midsection in a warm embrace, bawling all the while. Harry and Ron, not even caring how girlish it was, did the same with Sirius, nearly bowling him over.

"My word," said Harry's godfather. "You two have certainly grown!"

"Sirius," Harry choked. "Why did you do it? Why did you leave No. 12 Grimmauld Place?"

Sirius simply smiled back at him before answering. "Harry, you were my responsibility. I was entrusted to be your godfather, after all. I felt I had to make up for those twelve years I wasn't there for you, and dashing into the Ministry to rescue you from the Death Eaters was the least I could do."

"BUT YOU GAVE ME SUCH A DAMNED ULCER!" Harry shrieked at him. "And that was even _before_ you were killed! I… I… failed my History of Magic O.W.L. thanks to you!" he added, at a lost for blame. There was a silence, and then Harry, Ron and Sirius all laughed heartily. The tears came like hot rivers. Then they all turned to Neville. Sirius barked, "C'mere, you little devil!" and grabbed him by the collar, and lifted him up on his shoulders. "Let's hear it for Neville Longbottom!"

The cheers that came after were earsplitting. Neville was in total disbelief, and breathing heavily for it; but all the same, Harry had never seen his dear friend happier.

It turned out that Neville had roused himself while Voldemort wasn't looking, and performed a silent healing spell on the back of his head to mend his skull, which, unbelievably, had only been slightly fractured. He then picked up Gryffindor's lamp, and without a second's hesitation, raised it high above his head and brought it crashing down to the basement floor. Amelia Bones, keen to get rid of the dead body, buried Dolores Umbridge in some loose earth found in a side room. Without holding a funeral for her, the throng simply lit their wands in answer to the fast-falling night and sat down. Harry could finally speak face-to-face with his parents - not an image in a mirror nor _Priori Incantatem_ doppelgangers, but his real parents. Lily Potter, Harry's mother, was still in tears long after everyone else had dried theirs.

"Harry… my son… my dear son…" she choked, and unable to contain herself any longer, brought Harry into an embrace that felt like an eternity. Harry could hear her sobbing wildly, and found that he himself was on the verge of the same. If his eyes had been clear, he would have seen that everyone around them was watching them and bawling themselves as they realized the magnitude of this moment. _Harry was embracing his long-dead mother._

"Mum…" he gasped, "…you protected me! And because of that, Voldemort wasn't able to kill me! Mum…." and now Harry was shrieking, "_I'VE ALWAYS LOVED YOU! I NEVER KNEW YOU, BUT I COULD ALWAYS FEEL YOU THERE!"_

"Oh, my dear," Lily choked softly, "what else could a mother do? Even after death, I continued to watch over you. I was your guardian angel." With this words, they came apart, though still grasping each other by the arms, and Lily made full eye contact with her son as she continued: "And it wasn't easy becoming your guardian, either. It was only when I reminded the Higher Power that you, my son, have a destiny to fulfill, for the hope of not only wizard kind, but also of the entire human race, that I was granted the privilege of ensuring that you stay alive until this final year. Naturally, He was already well aware of your destiny, but I think He was waiting for me to bring it up," she said with a smile.

Silence fell. The joy that had been swelling up inside Harry seemed to get caught in his throat at this reminder of his apparent doom. Fortunately, he didn't have long to think on this before another person spoke.

"So our house fell prey to old Dumb-bridge, of all people?" said Harry's father James. "I never did like her. She was the mother of a really snotty Slytherin girl when your mum and I were at Hogwarts."

"Wow, I guess nobody escaped being affected by her!" mused Ron. "The old bat."

The crowd then took turns in talking, catching up, or just plain reminiscing among themselves., for hours on end. Harry knew from that moment that he would remember this for many years to come, as the happiest moment of his life.

Not until the sun began to show itself dimly through the window did the crowd separate. They were destined for the homes they had in life, Harry knew, and their families would soon be feeling the same joy he had known for the past several hours. He remembered Amos Diggory and his wife, and how devastated they were at the death of their son Cedric. Briefly, Harry wondered if any of these families would take those returned to life to be their own madness, imposters, elaborate hoaxes, or concoctions of the devil. But then he remembered how he had reacted to seeing them, and knew that the feeling they gave off was unmistakably the genuine article, so he no longer worried that any of the former victims' families would react in any way but good.

Harry decided to live with his parents in the house which had been built over the old wreckage of the former Potter home. _This time,_ he thought, _the school year will be unbelievable, and a whole lot easier to bear whatever may happen, now that I know my parents are back._


	7. The Dark Times Return

Harry Potter and the Wrath of the Horcruxes

**Chapter 7: The Dark Times Return**

Harry kept in touch with Ron, Hermione and Neville throughout the rest of the summer, but when it came time for the yearly book list to arrive by owl… nothing came. Harry wondered if maybe a conspiracy was at hand, and somebody was stopping his mail just like Dobby had done just before his second year. So he wrote to his friends, and they replied by saying that they had not received their lists either. Harry's parents were also perplexed by this oddity, and said they had never known such a thing to happen when they had attended Hogwarts.

Nevertheless, Harry was able to keep this in the back of his mind, until one night when he was lying on his bed in the dark, and suddenly got a strange twinge that things were not right. Without even waking his parents up, he jumped into his clothes and dashed out the front door, only to run smack into Ron, Hermione and Neville.

"You lot! Do you mean that -"

"We felt it too, yeah," Hermione said. "We've got to go see what's going on."

So they prepared to Apparate. As they felt the familiar yet always unpleasant sensation of compression, they at once realized that they could mysteriously Apparate directly into the Hogwarts grounds, which was highly unusual, because normally they would have to warp to Hogsmeade, being the closest to the castle, since it was supposed to be impossible to Apparate anywhere closer to Hogwarts. Their sense of urgency increased tenfold.

When they opened their eyes, they found themselves staring at the worst, and most nightmarish sight Harry could ever have imagined since his eleventh birthday: before them was several acres of blackened ground and an enormous pile of miserable-looking ashes in the center, and though this was all at first unrecognizable, the gargoyle statues flanking the road were unmistakable.

_Hogwarts had been destroyed._


End file.
